


Making It Right

by GatewayGirl



Series: The Analog Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Alternate Timeline, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Bondage, Happy Ending, Love Triangle, Multi, Saving Sirius, Universe Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-07
Updated: 2010-03-07
Packaged: 2017-10-07 19:20:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GatewayGirl/pseuds/GatewayGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry would like this world to be better than the one he left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting the Past

**Author's Note:**

> Because sometimes you just want to fix everything that was broken in 1981....
> 
> Thanks to Sociofemme and to Dacro for beta work and other assistance.
> 
> Canon Compliancy: Through HBP for the adult Harry; backstory through September '81 for the others.

Harry liked his occasional flashes of competence -- of feeling like he could still make a difference. Arriving at Godric's Hollow to a younger, more vulnerable Remus Lupin, distraught over Sirius, was like that. He could _do _something. He could save and redeem Sirius and rescue not one life, but two.

"We can fix that," he said, and Remus, eyes wide, left Lily's soothing embrace and advanced on him, glowing wand raised high to spread its illumination.

"Who are you?" Remus asked. He looked between Harry and James before settling on James. "James?"

"Doggie!" little Harry said fiercely, squirming to get down.

"Wait a moment," Harry said, as Lily turned to move towards the house. "You can't go _in _there. Voldemort knows where it is. He probably left traps."

"Oh hell," James muttered, and the toddler wailed _"Doggie!"_ more accusingly, and Lily said, "I promised."

James pulled out his wand. "_Accio _Doggie."

Malicious light flared around a window frame as something sailed out through it. This time it was Lily who cursed.

"Sorry, Remus," she said quickly. "May we go to your house for now?"

"Yes, but --"

"We'll discuss its shortcomings there." James had finished casting a few quick spells on Doggie, who turned out to be a plush black dog with grey feet, and now handed it to his son. As the toddler affectionately stuffed one of the feet in his mouth and begin to chew on it, Harry decided that the feet had probably originally been white. He was interrupted from this thought by James grabbing his arm.

"Apparate," he said, to the others. Remus, Lily, and the child obediently vanished in two cracks. James turned to Harry.

"For now, you're me."

"We're not going to tell him --?"

"Later. _After _the Ministry has grilled him. Come on."

  


Confusion went well with the stretched feeling of Sidealong Apparition. A long moment later, they appeared in a small living room that had been made smaller by piles of boxes.

"--next Friday," Remus was saying. Harry looked around. The place was dirtier than he would have imagined any place that Lupin lived being. Of course, _this _Lupin was slightly younger than he was.

"The Ministry's taking it, James!" Lily exclaimed. "The house!"

"Not once we clear Sirius, they're not," James said fiercely.

"James," Remus said pleadingly, "he _betrayed _you. He's probably been a Death Eater since --" He shuddered. "I have no idea. God! I've been --"

"He did NOT BETRAY ME!" James bellowed. Remus fell silent, but his cheeks were pink over stark white, and Harry could see trembling in the hand he had on the arm of his chair. Harry wanted to move nearer to him and tell him it would all be okay, but they'd never met.

"He couldn't have, Remus," Lily said levelly, frowning at James. In the wake of the outburst, young Harry was looking at his father with wide eyes. "He didn't have the information."

"He was your Secret Keeper."

"Well, no, actually he wasn't." James ducked his head, just as his son began belatedly to wail. "He thought it would be safer if people thought so --"

"WHAT?"

Remus might have been easier to hurt at this age, but he was apparently also easier to anger. He jumped to his feet and advanced on James. "You --!"

"It was his idea!" James said quickly. Lily was soothing the child, and her glare kept his voice quiet, though no less urgent. _"His!" _

Remus stopped. He dug his fingers into his hair in a disturbingly familiar gesture. Gold, rather than silver, lightened the brown. Harry could see one long scar on the back of that hand, but the skin was otherwise smooth.

"Then why did he kill Peter?"

"He was our Secret Keeper."

"You just said --"

"Peter. _Peter _was our Secret Keeper."

"Oh dear God." Remus sank to the nearest seat, which happened to be the arm of Harry's chair. "It's -- hell, it's still _murder --_"

"Where I'm from, Wormtail didn't die," Harry volunteered quickly. "He bit off a finger and disappeared -- as a rat -- in an explosion that killed fourteen Muggles. Could it be the same?"

"Who _are _you?"

"Oh, Remus, meet me. Me, Remus." James grinned. "He needs a name."

Remus ignored him in favor of frowning down at Harry. His face seemed different, and it took Harry a moment to recognize that the white scar running from cheek to neck was the only raised one on his face. About half as many years of changing without the Wolfsbane potion, he realized, and most of those not alone. "From?" Remus prompted.

"They were hopping through alternate timelines," Harry explained hurriedly. "I'm an analog."

"Dear God," Remus said again. "I can't ... I don't know --"

"Listen." Harry tugged on Remus's arm, and very nearly ended up with a lap full of unbalanced werewolf. He was almost sorry when Remus managed to catch himself on the opposite arm, hanging over the chair. From the way James sniggered, at least one person found his train of thought obvious. Remus was too busy apologizing.

"I'm sorry! I'm usually not so clumsy, I just -- I haven't had any sleep to speak of, and ...." He trailed off and pushed himself to his feet.

"Sirius didn't do it," Harry said reassuringly. He stood also, to be even with Remus. "We'll get him out -- well, they will." He gestured at James and Lily.

"He's been for a week with Dementors!"

"Remus," James said softly. "We'll do what we can."

"Dementors can't hurt the dog as much," Harry said quickly. "He'll be sane." As soon as the words were out, he was unsure of them. How much of the damage to Sirius had happened in the first week? Would he be the person Remus had been mourning, when he could return to his friends -- or most of them?

"So what are we sitting here for?"

"Remus, is the Ministry open?" James asked. Harry suspected that the question was rhetorical. It was solidly dark. If it was late November, as seemed likely, it might not be past office hours at the Ministry, but it probably was. "I'll be waiting at the doors in the morning; I swear it.

"Now sit down." James motioned Remus back to the chair he had vacated earlier. Harry sat as well. "Before I show up at the Ministry, we need a name for my analog. I won't have him using 'James' in my world, and you know it's better to tell the bureaucrats that he has another name already."

"Charles," Lily suggested.

"No," Harry said quickly.

"Ronald?"

"Even worse! Look, not Charles, Ronald, William, Frederick, George, Percival, or Arthur, all right? Or Neville, or Dean, or Colin."

"Tom?"

"You do know that's Voldemort's real name, don't you?"

_"What?"_

"No!" Lily giggled.

"Yeah. So that's out. Besides, I'm used to -- I'd like something with an "ee" ending, I think."

"Johnny?"

"Maybe."

"Daniel -- you could be Danny."

Harry shrugged.

"You could keep James and go by Jamie or Jimmy," Remus suggested.

"No!" James said, scowling.

"Robert or Robin, then, and use Robbie."

Harry considered. "That might be all right."

"Considering my parents, it would be Robert," James said dryly. _"Robin _is a nickname."

"I like it, though," Remus countered.

"Well, he could have been called that."

Harry shrugged again, but he smiled this time. "I think I like that. I'll tell you for sure in the morning?"

"All right. We'll use it in the meantime, so you can get a feel for it." 

  

The evening moved on, full of overlapping, half-accurate recountings of the situation. Harry started responding to 'Robbie' (from James and Lily) and 'Robin' (from Remus), but it wasn't natural. He found himself sitting back, remembering their arrival, and trying to determine how things would go from here, if everything he knew before Voldemort's attack was the same. James, Lily, and Remus were talking about whether or not James and Lily should attempt to return to Godric's Hollow, and if Moody or Dumbledore should be brought in to help with it. They weren't using the names, but Harry didn't find their substitutions at all ambiguous.

"James?" he queried.

"Mm?" Despite the vague sound, James looked up sharply, with instant focus. Again, Harry had a sense of what he himself must be like. That intensity would be alarming from Lily's eyes.

"Lily mentioned the prophecy, so you have that here too."

James shot a look at Remus, and then shrugged. "Yes."

Harry didn't like that -- didn't James trust Remus? -- but he continued. "So are you a major target without Harry?"

"I am not sending him away," Lily stated flatly.

"Of course not. But you could claim that he'd died --" At the looks on their faces, Harry amended that quickly. "-- or been lost, while you were traveling, and keep him secret."

Lily hesitated. "If the Order knew...."

"And our spy?" James asked sharply.

"If it was only Peter...."

"I don't trust Dumbledore's supposedly tame Death Eater, whomever --" James broke off at a glare from Lily.

"We couldn't not tell the Order," Lily insisted. "It's too important, and besides, I couldn't fake that degree of distress for people who know me so well."

James nodded. "Well, it might help, and wouldn't make things any more dangerous, I suppose. We can discuss it with Dumbledore. I still think it's the Longbottom boy, though."

Harry shook his head, but didn't speak. It wasn't Neville who would destroy the Dark Lord, nor, he swore silently to himself, was it the little child curled sleepily beside Lily. It was him.

  


James and Lily left early in the morning, with Lily saying that she'd be back to feed Harry later. Harry-now-Robert thought he needed to appear competent, but the looks everyone exchanged told him that Remus had done this before, and his ability to care for a child was immaterial.

Once James and Lily had vanished, Remus turned his attention to the toddler. "Robert" watched, bemused, until he couldn't stand any more of feeling useless. He wandered off to explore the house.

  


"Robin?"

The name was querulous. Possibly that was because Harry was sitting with his back against Sirius's bed, sifting through the rubble on the floor around him and drinking the whisky (real Muggle whisky from Islay) that he had found there. Harry -- Robert -- looked up.

"Hey," he said casually. "Where's Harry?" It was hard not to smirk -- or shiver -- while uttering that question.

"Taking a nap." Remus entered cautiously and picked his way through the debris to sit near him. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." Harry found the chunk of crystal that he had been searching for and placed it near the others. _"Reparo."_ The pieces resolved into an ashtray, which explained the odd curves in some of the outer pieces, as well as the fag ends scattered through other items.

"Robin, really. We haven't had lunch yet, and you're drinking whiskey. Neat."

"Oh!" Harry was taken aback by the wry concern in Remus's voice. "I, um, do that. I'm fine." He looked at the glass in his hand. "Well, no worse than usual." Shrugging, he lifted the crystal ashtray into the light. "Sirius smokes?"

Remus looked surprised at the question. "Doesn't yours? I mean, cigarettes are a Muggle vice, and a glaringly obvious one. Just his thing, really, even if I do hate it. Or did your Sirius not make a hobby of taking up anything that would drive his parents spare?"

"Oh." Put that way, it made sense. Maybe his Sirius had, back then. Back now. "Well, yes, but not this one."

Remus shrugged, and then sighed. "God. What a mess."

He was looking around at the room, and Harry had to agree. "Should we clean it?"

"I don't know."

"Wouldn't he rather come home to a clean room?"

Remus shrugged again, and lifted from his slouch enough to open a drawer above Harry's head. "Stay still." He took out a pack of cigarettes by feel, and tapped one out. "Maybe," he said, "but he's going to be furious that I didn't trust him. Do you think there's any chance it will be better if he sees that I pitched a fit?"

_"You _did this?" He had assumed it was Aurors.

"I was looking for something -- _anything _\-- anything that might have told me...." Remus closed his eyes, put the cigarette in his mouth, and lit it. He coughed as he blew out smoke.

"Thought you hated that."

"I do." Remus set the cigarette down in the ashtray, gagged theatrically, and swiped Harry's whiskey for a small sip. "But you need to inhale some to light them, and I want the room to smell like he's _here."_

He slumped forward, and Harry took his whiskey back. He dithered over whether or not to put an arm around Remus, but once Remus leaned into his side, there was no reason not to.

"Shh. He'll be home soon."

"And he's going to want you."

Remus sounded lost, but Harry couldn't help laughing. "Really?"

The look Remus turned on him was long-suffering, his voice exasperated. "What do you think, _James?"_

Harry shrugged. "If he ever has before, he didn't let on -- well, mine didn't. And for your information, I'd never been with a man before last night."

Remus pulled back, staring. "What -- with _James?"_

"Got it in one."

"Does that even count? I mean, losing your virginity to _yourself?" _

Harry burst out laughing. "Oh, he is so not me."

"Well, obviously, if you hadn't ever...." Remus shook his head. "You poor dear. Was it good?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"I suppose that's a yes."

He felt warm against Harry's side. Harry thought it might be good again.

  


Lily arrived at one o'clock, in a smoldering rage, and left again as soon as her son had nursed. She came back with James, neither of them in a better mood, at five-thirty. They dispensed wine all round and collapsed on the couch beside Harry-now-Robert.

"What a cock-up," James said to the ceiling. His glass tilted alarmingly on his knee. "At this rate, it will take another day to prove I'm _me, _and then there's registering as an animagus, though I've managed to avoid letting on that Sirius is one. I needed something behind my claim that Peter is. It will be Thursday before they might even _start _processing an appeal for Sirius, and then there's Crouch to deal with, and they'll want to see you, Robbie, and oh, gods, Crouch!"

Harry considered what he knew of Crouch. "You might want to have a reporter lined up," he said. "I mean, they're a pain, usually, but one on your side is the only real way to get politicians in line."

James tilted his head and lifted an eyebrow. "The Voice of Experience?"

"Unfortunately."

Remus studied them. "You know, the two of you aren't as alike as I'd expect."

"Differences in upbringing," James said quickly.

"I don't remember my parents."

"Whereas I felt safe right up until spring of sixth year." James drained half his glass and sat up. "Very well. Robbie? What is your experience with Veritaserum?"

Harry shivered. "Very little." He thought of Barty Crouch Jr. "Only watching."

"All right. Well, the Ministry wants to see you the day after tomorrow, at 1 p.m. From the time, I surmise that they will ask you to consent to Veritaserum interview."

Remus scowled. Harry was just confused. "Can they? I thought..."

"You have the right to refuse, of course."

"And they have the right to send you back where you came from, or as best as they can manage," Lily added. "Of course, it's possible it was just a scheduling quirk --"

"What does the time have to do with it?" Harry twisted to look past James at her. "I don't --"

"It's --" James began, but then Remus began to speak, and the others fell silent. It wasn't that he was loud, Harry thought, or commanding; it was just that you understood that what he was going to say was important information.

"Veritaserum interrogations, except in certain cases, are subject to strict controls. The victim -- sorry, _subject _\-- must be provided with list of questions that will be asked at least four hours before the interrogation, and must give explicit consent. Up to a dozen additional questions may be asked during the interview, but each must be preceded by obtaining consent for the question. A second interview requires authorization by a majority of the Wizengamot. They sometimes give it if the subject refused optional questions, but seldom if not."

Lily yawned and leaned against James. "We should come up with a list of the probable ones."

"Well, we know what it will start with," James said darkly. He turned to Harry. "What is your name?"

Harry opened his mouth, but then shut it again.

"You see? You can't say --" His eyes flicked to Remus, and he stopped, but Harry understood. If he said _Harry, _someone might put it together.

"But that can be got around," Remus said smugly.

"Yes." Lily sat up and nodded. "You just have to know that whatever your name _was, _it is now Robert Potter."

Harry -- _no, Robert! _\-- tried that. "My name is Robert Potter." It didn't sound right. "My name is Robert James Potter." That came out better. "Do you mind? It sounds better with the James there."

James allowed this with a magnanimous wave of one arm, and a "Quite all right, Robert." He smirked in response to Remus's snigger. Young Harry squirmed, and Lily moved with him to the floor. A flick of her wand, and there were three floating balls in the air in front of him.

"Wed!" He pushed the red ball and it spun and squeaked.

"Neat and simple, but I'm not sure it will do," Remus remarked. He uncrossed and re-crossed his legs. "For Veritaserum."

Lily looked up. "Knowing?"

Remus shook his head. "He won't. Not deep enough."

"Can you improve on it?" James challenged.

Remus cocked his head to one side, a motion that somehow managed to be more delicate than gawky. Harry continued to be amazed by his grace, at this age. Perhaps, without the losses he had suffered in Harry's time, he might retain more of it. He had visible scars on his hands and face -- although only some of the ones Harry remembered on the older Remus that he had known -- but it was an attractive face, nonetheless, except for when he was angry. Now he was looking studious, and perhaps a little amused. "We need to actually _name _him, ritual and all."

"We don't have a Ministry official."

Remus shrugged. "We can do the older version. Normally, that would be done by his mother or father, but it _can _be done by a husband or wife. Lily isn't married to him, really, but she might do, for magical purposes. It's worth trying. If that fails, we could try you, James."

Lily looked uneasily at Harry, a blush spreading on her cheeks. He suspected she was thinking that she was even closer to being his mother. "I suppose I might, at that."

"Remus and I will be witnesses, then," James said quickly. "Remus, do you need to look up details?"

"Yes," Remus said dryly. "Tomorrow will suffice."

Harry finished his wine and stood. _I need to think of myself as Robert. _He looked at the toddler on the floor. _He's Harry. I'm not, anymore. I'm Robert._

"Now that the two of you are available to watch Harry ..."

James leered at him. "You two have other plans?"

With a quick, irritated motion, Remus stood also. "Yes. Strengthening the protections on the cottage, because You-Know-Who probably already knows that you're back, and this is the first place for him to come looking."

"After all," Harry added, "_he _knows Sirius isn't one of his."

  


The next day, Harry stayed with Remus again. He had found warding the cottage with this Remus both familiar and not. This Remus was less experienced than the one he had known, of course, but good at the same sort of things. It wasn't his age that was disconcerting, so much as the way he treated Harry -- Robert, that was -- as an equal.

While Harry's analog was napping, Remus taught him tricks for answering questions under Veritaserum. The restrictions, apparently, were less stringent for werewolves and other Dark creatures, so Remus spoke from experience.

"You_ will _say anything; you can't stop that. But if you can make your mind go to the irrelevant first, or to something that embarrasses your interviewers, they may stop you before you get to anything damaging."

"I'm not sure I have anything on the interviewers."

"No. No, I mean when they were asking me about ... about Sirius...."

"They didn't!"

"Robbie, I _lived _with him. Of course they did!"

"So you ...."

"So when they asked 'Did you engage in any illegal activities with Sirius Black?' I had set in my mind that I didn't want to talk about the three of them being animagi. So I said 'yes' and went right into an example -- a few months earlier, he'd shown up with a collar on, and said he wanted me to chain him and fuck him right in the room where I have my monthly interview, so we'd broken in to the Ministry building, and he'd stripped down to just the collar, and leaned over the table, and ...." Remus stopped with a breathless laugh. "And about there, a very red-faced Auror revised the question to 'illegal activities in support, promotion, or assistance of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!' and I could just say no."

The excitement that had briefly lit Remus's face faded into sick distress. "He's _never _going to forgive me. I should probably just finish packing now."

Harry heated with anger. "Forgive you _what, _Remus? He lied to you. You believed him. He has nothing to forgive."

"I shouldn't have believed that he'd betray James -- that he'd do _anything _for You-Know-Who --"

"And you didn't. You've been trying your damnedest, because you _knew_ he was the Secret Keeper, and there was no other logical conclusion, but when James came back -- after what, three weeks? -- nearly the first words from your mouth were 'I can't believe it was Sirius.' Sirius played his clever trick, and you fell for it, and you both got hurt. You don't have anything to apologize _for."_

"I don't think he's really going to see it that way."

"Then let _me _talk to him." Harry -- _Robert. I am Robert _\-- heard his voice come out in a growl.

Remus laughed. "Maybe you're more like our James than I thought." As soon as the words were out, his smile faded into a sigh. "Which means it doesn't really matter, anyway. He'll want you. I can take his casual ventures, but you'll be here, a second chance at James...."

Harry felt his forehead compress as his eyes narrowed. "Casual ventures?" he demanded.

"He has other lovers, you know? But I don't mind giving him leeway. They don't matter, really, and I need more time alone than Sirius does. But _you...._"

He trailed off, looking miserable. Harry twisted to face him directly.

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Does he give you 'leeway,' as well?"

Remus froze at the question. His eyes darted nervously away. Harry leaned closer. Could he? Hesitantly, he brought his mouth to the other man's.

Remus kissed softly, but actively, his lips exploring. When his hand rose to Harry's shoulder, Harry shifted to embrace him, and suddenly they had pulled each other close. When Remus had one leg across Harry's lap and was kissing him desperately, Harry grabbed his arse and pulled him into a straddle.

"Robert...." Remus had tossed his head back. His color was high. "I can't. Not now."

Harry pushed up at him, and from the way that Remus moaned, he knew the refusal wouldn't hold. Remus would let him do anything. "Don't tell me you _can't. _If he can, you can."

"He's in prison!" Remus shouted. He ducked his head. "Sorry. I mean, he can when he's home safe, reading a book, or something. I'd hope he wouldn't if I --" Remus swallowed. "If I ...."

"Okay. That's fair." _Fair, _yes, but Harry wasn't at all happy about it. He reached out a hand and stroked it down Remus's cheek. "So ... later?"

"Let me fix things with him first." Remus looked miserable. "Or give up on it."

"You're so young," Harry whispered, overwhelmed by tender awe.

Remus bristled. "Six months younger!"

"Sorry." Harry nuzzled along Remus's neck and Remus let him. "I think you're sweet."

"Says the almost-virgin!"

"Mm-hm."

"I ..." Remus slid awkwardly off of him. "Not conducive to chaste interactions."

"All right." Without further protest, Harry reluctantly let the man leave his lap. "But when Sirius is back, I'm going to make another try. And if he tells you no, he'll have _me _to answer to."


	2. Becoming Robert

From the term "ritual", Harry had expected something elaborate, but his naming was fairly straightforward. Lily, blushing again, licked the pad of her left index finger and pressed it to his forehead. "Child of my blood," she whispered, her voiced strained, and raised her wand. "_Te nomino_ Robert James Potter."

It was very simple. No light came out of her wand. There was no reason, surely, for Robert to reel at the words. _Robert._ He shuddered. Not an ounce of his being had thought of himself as 'Harry.'

"Robbie?"

"Um." He gave her a weak smile. "I think it worked. I mean, I remember I _was--"_ He stopped. Remus was here, and Remus didn't know.

Remus leaned close. "I'll try the night test," he whispered.

"What?"

"See which wakes you up."

The heat Robert felt owed very little to embarrassment.

  


Robert was less confident in the morning, when an owl arrived with notification of a Veritaserum interview and a list of questions. James had already left for work -- since he was now out of hiding, with Harry officially missing, he and Lily had returned to their jobs. James worked for an alchemical company, doing tricky transfigurations, but Lily worked at the Ministry, in Experimental Charms, and had a little more time in the morning. She paused in her gathering of workday items and sat beside Robert for a moment, where he was curled up on the couch, staring at the list. She took his hand in her own, giving it an almost motherly little pat.

"Robbie. I'd love to talk, but I need to go to my office, now. Will you meet me for lunch? Come to the Ministry lobby at half-eleven, and I'll take you to the Red Griffin. You probably shouldn't drink before the potion, but the food's good, and it's only a few minutes' walk from the entrance."

So it was that a few hours later, Robert was settled in the pub, with pumpkin juice and a hearty Scotch broth, looking across an old, scored table at his analog's mother, who was currently younger than he was.

"I'm lost," he said.

"Are the questions bad?"

She was pretty, he thought. If she wasn't half his mother, he might have made an effort to impress.

"They don't look too dangerous, except maybe for the 'have you ever broken the law' bit--"

She giggled. "Oh, all of us would get in trouble on that one."

"Even you?"

"Even me," she said smugly. "You know, James is trying to teach me the trick for Remus."

Robert nodded, understanding, and wondered what her animagus form would be. "Yeah. I mean, I can probably say something that will just make them laugh, but any of it could be trouble. It just depends on what comes out." He looked at his food and his juice again. He badly wanted a drink. It was a more intense feeling here, in a pub, than in the new environment of Remus's home.

"True, but...." She shrugged. "The Aurors don't use that large a dose for this sort of investigation. If you've seen Veritaserum in war use, it may not be as bad as you're expecting."

"Oh." He stopped investigating the grains of barley his soup and looked up. "Yeah, probably. I was fourteen, and the man had arranged for me to touch a portkey to Voldemort. Another student had been murdered."

She winced in sympathy. "And the interrogator?"

For all that she had cast a subtle privacy spell when they had sat down, he found himself reluctant to say Snape's name. "A Slytherin of your acquaintance, and a school enemy of James."

"Oh." She stared at him for a moment with widened eyes. "Well, yes, then," she said, shaking herself out of it with a nervous laugh. "No mercy. You knew him?"

Robert nodded. "He hated me -- well, I suppose it was mutual until almost the end. Looking back, though, he protected me a lot." He poked at his soup again and scooped up a spoonful. "We should probably discuss this at home, though."

"Yes." She took a visible breath and settled her shoulders back. "Robbie, about the ritual...."

"Mm?"

"I ... It was effective enough that.... Well, I just wanted to say that I wouldn't be comfortable repeating the events of our first meeting."

She looked almost apologetic. Robert ducked his head with a smile. "Yeah, I have to say the same. I don't regret it, though; I'd still be _there _if it hadn't happened."

At that, her smile relaxed into sincerity. "I don't either." She reached out and laid a hand over his, almost like Hermione used to do. "No regrets. You look _happy _here. You fancy Remus, don't you?"

He felt himself heat. "Don't know that it will ever come to anything."

"Well I hope it does. You'd be a sight better for him than Sirius has been."

Before he could think how to respond, she bit her lip. "Oh! Speaking of Sirius, his review started this morning. It's locked, so we won't have any news until it's over, but you may want to think about what you plan to do when he's home -- if he comes home."

"Do?" Robert asked stupidly.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, aside from Remus, there's the overcrowding. I doubt he'll throw you out if you want to stay -- not unless he feels threatened. James and I have talked to the Longbottoms -- did you know them? -- and we'll be staying there for a while, once James is certain that Sirius is competent. Alice and I think two babies with four parents might be easier than one with two, anyway, and it will help us hide that I still have Harry...."

"The house will be a lot less crowded then."

Slowly, she nodded. "Yes. If it's not uncomfortable, and you don't mind...."

He shrugged, and forced himself to scoop up a spoonful of cooling soup. "Can't tell until I meet him, can I?" 

  


"I don't like that sullen look to him."

"Marcus, honestly! He's been given Veritaserum; of course he looks sullen." The Auror who had spoken smiled at Robert. "Myself, it's the ones who aren't sullen that I watch. They're either arrogant enough to think they'll fool us, or too dull to realize the indignity of the procedure."

"Don't get chatty, Patrick."

Robert suspected the two were playing him, but he couldn't help but warm to the friendly one. "Can we get it over with?" he asked. He could feel the potion starting to take effect. The men seemed to be sitting farther away, now -- no, close, but apart from him, like people on a television.

Marcus snorted, but Robert could see the shrewd evaluation in his gaze. He could tell that Robert was affected, now. "Let's. What's your name?"

"Robert James Potter." The name came out without any effort on his part, and Robert felt a distant relief. That was the worst of it, he hoped.

"Where did you go to school?"

"Hogwarts -- Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The men looked at each other. "What was your house?" Patrick asked.

"Gryffindor."

"What NEWTs do you hold?"

"Defense against the Dark Arts, Potions, Charms, and Transfiguration."

Marcus cut in. "In which -- if any -- did you achieve the level of Outstanding or Exceeds Expectations?

"Defense against the Dark Arts and Charms."

"Not --" Marcus stopped himself. "May I have your permission to ask you about Transfiguration?"

"Sure."

"What did you pass with?"

"An Acceptable." Robert shrugged. "James and I aren't entirely alike."

"May I ask you how you met James?"

"Yes."

"How did you meet James?"

"He was attacked for pretending to be me, and I rescued him." Robert managed to keep himself from continuing. Let them use up another of their dozen extra questions. After a few seconds of silence, that was what happened.

"May I ask you who attacked him?"

"Yes."

"Who attacked him?"

Robert shrugged. "I don't know their names. Some local tough boys." Resisting the potion became too much, but he could use it to say something he wanted to say. "I'm sort of a hero for defeating Voldemort. People can't treat me like that, at home. I had to tell them not to beat him up, and then I thought I should find out if he was okay and why he looked like me."

"May I ask what he told you?"

"Yes."

"What did he tell you?"

"That he had set up a defense to an attack by Voldemort, and it set him and his family traveling through other timelines."

"Did you have such a defense in your timeline? If I may ask?"

"You may." The slip gave him a little more control; the potion was not as directly focused on the question. "I didn't. By the time I was his age, I'd already killed Voldemort." Robert was proud of himself for having managed to say something misleading.

"May I ask how old you are?"

"Yes." He didn't like it, though.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-three."

The men looked at each other again.

"Could be dangerous," Marcus commented.

"Maybe." Patrick turned to Robert. "I would like to ask you if by this point of 'now' in your timeline, our timelines had already diverged. May I?"

"Yes, you may." If he hadn't lost track, that was half their quota.

"Had they?"

"Yes. Obviously. You still have--"

"Enough!" Marcus snapped. Patrick sat back.

"Should be safe, then. He can't be sure what will happen, and two years is permissible, in that case." He stretched his arms overhead as he leaned back. "Robert. What was your greatest failure?"

This was on the list. Robert hadn't been sure what he would say, but the words came with compelled ease.

"Voldemort tricked me into thinking he had captured someone I loved, and I got myself and some friends into a dangerous situation. Albus Dumbledore came with some others to rescue us from Death Eaters, and my godfather died in the fight."

"May I ask why you needed to be rescued?" Patrick asked.

"Hero," Marcus added with a sneer.

Robert realized that he couldn't blush. The Veritaserum wouldn't let him feel embarrassed. "Yes."

"Why did you need to be rescued?"

"I was fifteen. I wasn't ready to face him."

They studied him for a moment, Marcus with respect, and Patrick with sympathy. Perhaps those really were their personalities, rather than roles. It was Marcus who shifted forward first.

"Have you ever broken the law?"

This was a return to the script. Robert nodded. "Yes." Marcus continued to look at him, and he couldn't help giving an example. "That battle with the Death Eaters, for example. It was in the Department of Mysteries. We broke into the Ministry building at night."

They considered that. "May I ask if you have ever stolen anything?"

"Yes."

"Patrick! That's a stupid question."

"I don't think it is. Robert, have you ever stolen anything?"

Robert was momentarily discombobulated at the task of sorting out things that he had stolen from those that someone else had stolen for him -- Hermione raiding Snape's stores, for example. The potion pulled answers forward for him. "I stole a map out of Filch's cabinet. And I stole a hippogriff that was going to be executed." He hadn't been told to list everything, he told himself firmly, but his mouth insisted on adding more. "And I've taken things from Honeydukes when it was closed, but I left money, so I don't know if that counts. There's a secret passage that ends in their cellar, and--"

"Entertaining," Marcus said dryly, "but let's move on. Robert, have you ever assisted He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Not intentionally. That battle helped him a bit, I think, but not as much as he had hoped. And he took my blood for a spell, once, when he had me as a prisoner, and he managed to get things out of my mind with Legilimency."

Patrick nodded as if he had expected this answer.

"Why do you want to stay in our timeline?" Marcus asked.

"Remus Lupin is beautiful." Robert stopped, horrified to have said that. His planned answer had vanished from his mind. Remus was beautiful? He _thought _Remus was beautiful? He did, he supposed. "And I wanted to save Sirius." He tried to recall what he had planned to say. "I could kill Voldemort."

"May I ask why you don't help them at home?"

"Yes--"

"Why don't you?"

"Sirius is dead in my timeline, and I don't really know that Remus well. He moved away."

"May I ask if your wife is alive?"

"Yes, you can but--"

"Is she? At home?"

"Where I came from, my girlfriend died. I never married." They must be out of extra questions, Robert thought, or nearly, and they had asked most of the ones on their list, except for the one about his greatest accomplishment, which they must have decided was obvious. Indeed, after consulting their notes, the two Aurors looked at each other again.

Patrick shrugged. "More power to him, I say. I don't see any reason to kick out a man who might bring down You-Know-Who."

Marcus twisted his mouth in distaste for a moment, but then nodded. "Certainly nothing in here to say he would be a problem."

"I don't know." Patrick grinned. "There's that hippogriff."

  


Back at the crowded house, they celebrated that night with chocolate cake and wine, but not too much of the latter. Everyone was tense with anticipating for the verdict on Sirius. Robert could tell that Remus was waiting to be called in to testify, and equally afraid that he would be, and that he wouldn't be. He was wound up as tight as a spring, and wouldn't touch the wine.

The next morning, Remus raced in to the kitchen. Robert shot away from the cupboard over the sink and tried guiltily to pretend that he wasn't considering adding whisky to his orange juice.

"Sirius is out!" Remus shouted, not even noticing. "James just Floo-called! He's bringing him home! Now! Well, just as soon as the paperwork is together."

He stopped, shaking visibly as his elation transmuted to fear. For a moment he just stood there, trembling. Robert put his arms around him.

"It'll be okay."

"No. No, don't tell me that! I can't--"

"It will be okay," Robert repeated slowly, as Remus pressed against him, hiding his face. "I'll _make _it be okay."

Remus snorted, but it sounded suspiciously tight. _"James."_

Robert wasn't sure why he continued to hold off on telling Remus that he wasn't really James. In part it was because Remus might have been interrogated over Sirius, but that wasn't all of it, or he would be starting now. Somehow, he wanted to tell Sirius first, but he knew he would need to tell Remus right afterwards.

"Not James," he warned, ambiguously.

"Couldn't tell, from how you talk. You think you can fix everything." The face Remus lifted was smiling, now, though.

"Sit down and have some tea," Robert said. "We can wait together."

It was actually nearly two hours before their new wards trembled, and the front door opened, and James stepped across the threshold with his prize in tow.

"Sirius!" The man with James wasn't the Sirius that Robert had known in his previous life, but he also wasn't quite Sirius from the old pictures. He was more worn, more tired, with his hair tangled and a faint shadow of the haunted look that Robert remembered all too well. Without thinking, Robert crossed the room in two bounds and threw his arms around him. "God! It's so -- I'm sorry, I know you don't know me..." He tried to pull away, but the man's arms tightened around him as if he, too, needed to touch. James, Robert realized, may not have been desperate enough to hold him this way.

Delighted, Robert relaxed into the embrace until rumpled hair tickled his nose, and let himself take in the man's scent. It was all wrong -- not his scent, itself, but the way that it was stark and barren. Sirius should smell of beer and hippogriff and the mouldering rooms of Grimmauld Place, or of wood smoke and wet rock and clean spring winds. "You smell all wrong," he murmured. "Not like anything." His eyes stung.

"Cleaning charm from the Ministry Healer who oversaw the release process," Sirius explained, with a trace of humor in his voice. He stepped back, gently disengaging from the touch. "I'd be rank without it, believe me." He looked past Robert, and the amusement vanished from his face. "You didn't come to get me."

Remus took a step towards them. He was as white as a ghost. "I thought ... I'd rather have privacy."

"Oh." Sirius looked like the declaration was a death sentence. He nodded in grim resignation. "All right, then. Shall we?" He motioned ahead of him, and the two walked into his bedroom with all the enthusiasm of a funeral procession. The door shut behind them with a dull clack.

"Do you understand that?" Robert asked.

James rolled his eyes. "Considering that Sirius can turn walking to the bakery for bread into an epic, and Remus can make a tragedy out of the wholemeal having all been sold, confusion may be a mark of sanity." He twisted his shoulders in an uneven shrug. "I know what's wrong with Sirius."

"Yeah? I can fill in Remus. He's convinced that Sirius will consider it a betrayal of trust that he didn't disbelieve the evidence and assert that Sirius was innocent. He expects Sirius to dump him, or at least to rail at him. I've told him he's mad."

James snorted. "Sirius, on the other hand, is convinced that Remus will leave him for having lied."

They both gazed at the closed door. There was a suspicious emptiness of sound behind it, as if someone had cast a silencing spell.

"If they manage to communicate so incompetently as to come out of there having broken up, we knock them down and sit on them, right?"

James laughed. "Agreed. You're an entirely satisfactory analog, for an imposter."

Robert raised his eyebrows. "I've been _told _how much I resemble you."

With an almost embarrassed chuckle, James ruffled up his own hair with a backwards sweep of one hand. "I expect so. Call me if I'm needed, okay? I have to get back to work."

  


Intervention wasn't necessary. The two emerged an hour later, clinging to each other, faintly pink-eyed, but smelling of sex. Sirius demanded eggs and bacon and toast with marmalade, and was indulged in all of them. He followed that by declaring that he was walking down to the corner shop for cigarettes. Remus and Robert both offered to go with him, but he refused.

"Bold as brass," Remus said with more than a trace of admiration, as he and Robert watched from the bay window Sirius striding down the road.

"He'll get himself killed," Robert said, irritated by all of it, but Sirius came back, smelling of cold air and smoke, and sat with Remus, close but not touching. It didn't do anything to decrease Robert's irritation.

"You should be more careful," Robert warned. "People want to kill you."

With a shrug, Sirius dismissed the objection. "And you, right?"

"I wouldn't refuse another wand at my side. Especially not when I was out of practice."

He wasn't surprised that Sirius dropped his wand out; it was a predictable that he would take the comment as a challenge. Robert had it flying upwards before the second half of the incantation for a Stinging hex made it out of the man's mouth. He caught the wand neatly.

"Watch it on the arrogance," he said, handing it back to Sirius. Aware that both of them were staring at him, he turned his back and left the room. The Stinging Hex that caught him in the bum was also predictable, if disappointingly spiteful. He ignored it and kept walking. It wasn't Cruciatus, after all.

Ten minutes later, Remus knocked on the door of the bedroom. "Robert?"

"What is it?"

"Sirius got called back."

Robert was on his feet and yanking the door open instantly. _"What?_"

"Frank came-- Frank Longbottom. It's about you, he said. Just questioning."

Robert snorted, but his racing heart started to slow. "Didn't give him long to find out much, did they?"

Remus chuckled. "Oh, I don't know. He can report that you're a damn sight more responsible than our James, and you have frighteningly high pain tolerance."

Robert shrugged. "From having been through the Cruciatus curse multiple times. Oh, and Quidditch injuries, I suppose. Damned if I'm going to give him the satisfaction of yelping from some schoolboy hex." He looked at the worry in Remus's eyes and sighed. "Neither of us is going to get anything done until he's back, are we? Look, there's probably no danger. Let's play a game or something. Exploding Snap?"

"Schoolboy games?" Remus asked pointedly, and he led the way back out to the living room. There, he pushed aside James and Lily's bedding and pulled a small pile of games out from under the coffee table. Robert expected Wizard chess, but was instead presented with something called Scrabble. He hadn't encountered the game before, but Remus didn't seem surprised at that; he told him it was a Muggle game and explained the rules, which were easy enough.

Two rounds in, Robert got up and poured himself a generous glass of whisky. Remus looked at it pointedly, but didn't say anything, and Robert managed "Dazed" on a double word score. He felt guilty about claiming some of the worry in Remus's eyes for himself, and managed not to get himself a refill when the glass was empty. He fidgeted with it anyway.

"Let me take that for you."

As Remus rose, Robert covered his tray theatrically. "You're just trying to get a look at my letters!"

Remus snorted. "Of course. Because I'm in such danger of losing to a novice player."


	3. Coming Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Robert" reveals his identity.

When Sirius came home, it was via Floo, and he was by himself. Robert could tell by his face that everything was fine.

"How did it go?" Remus asked eagerly.

"Perfectly. They said I wouldn't be called back. Frank told me that they're closing Robert's case." Sirius grinned happily at Robert at that tidbit, and Robert felt his heart flip with excitement. If that was true, he was safe; he could stay. He stood up.

"That's great." The happy flip had turned to a nervous trembling. "Could I talk to you for a moment ... privately?"

He shot Remus a glance, trying to convey that this wasn't distrust, and Remus shrugged in a way that showed Robert he didn't understand. Oh well -- that would need to be dealt with later. Sirius was already halfway to the door, and Robert followed. "Be back soon," he called to Remus, who shrugged again.

  


In Sirius's bedroom, behind a closed door and a muffling charm, Sirius looked at him uneasily.

"Look," Robert said, "I know we don't know each other, and I have an obvious thing for your boyfriend, but ..." He trailed off, unsure why he was doing this.

"But?" Sirius asked wryly.

"Would you be willing...." Robert screwed up his courage. "Would you kiss me? I just want to know...."

Sirius gave a short, self-deprecating laugh. "You have to ask? Robert _James_?"

The name made Robert feel guilty. He hadn't been James; he had never been James; he now wondered why anyone had said he was like James. Still, he stepped forward. "Please?"

Sirius was warm. His hands were warm where they spread across Robert's back, and his mouth was warm where it met Robert's, moist and softly active, and his body was warm as, after a few seconds, it pressed close and solid. Robert moaned, and at the sound, took a frightened step back. He was still staring, weak-kneed and without thoughts, when Sirius punched him lightly in the shoulder.

"You can have my boyfriend any time you want, you know. Well, if he's willing, which he clearly is."

Robert considered protesting, or asking if Sirius was sure, but after taking a long look at his face, nodded instead. "Thanks. That's good to know." He took a deep breath. "And now that's out of the way, there's something I need to tell you."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "That you already have?" he suggested, leering.

""Do you think he'd just fall into bed with me?" Robert scoffed. "When you weren't even _safe?_ No, I...." _Go ahead, Harry. You can say it. _"I'm not James."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Look, I didn't mean --"

"I'm not his analog."

Sirius stopped, eyebrows descending. "Not...?"

Robert met his eyes. "I'm Harry's."

"You're-- _What?_"

"I'm not just from another timeline. I'm from another time in another timeline."

"You-- I-- So you knew me as--" Sirius seemed unable to continue. His fingers moved to his lips.

"Only a little." The admission hurt. "In mine, you did just what you did here, but they were dead, and you stayed in Azkaban for twelve years." Robert tried to smile. "You were the first person ever to break out of the place, though." He winced. "Well, not you. Your analog in my world. So by the time I met him, he wasn't much like you."

"I-- He--" Sirius pushed back his hair. "Hell. And after that ... Did you-- Did we...?"

"We spent a little time together, but not _that _way. You -- sorry, _he _\-- tried to take care of me, but he couldn't, much. Being a fugitive and a bit messed up. Called me James a few times." Robert smiled weakly. "Hated that. He died two years later, because I was an idiot, and he had to save me." He looked up. "Died in battle. Very brave, my godfather. No damn sense, but brave."

"Oh." Sirius shrugged. Robert could see his Adam's apple move as he swallowed. "That-- Still true."

"Yeah, but you're still young." It seemed like a weird thing to say to the man who would have been his godfather, but it was true.

"He wasn't, though."

"He...." Robert shrugged. "Azkaban isn't a place to grow up, you know? I mean, he was aged, but not much matured. And kind of desperate. He couldn't get back to where he'd been; it was all gone." Robert understood that now. His chest hurt. "You ... You have more promise, I think."

"What do you mean?"

"It's so good to see you -- to see your smile look real."

"_James," _Sirius said intently, without thinking, and then winced. "Robert -- er--" He laughed, the sound cutting off his attempt at 'Harry.'

Robert laughed as well. "Robert, please. Or Robbie."

"I'm sorry. About all of it."

"It wasn't your fault."

"All right. For you. But I would have done the same to _him _\-- my Harry."

That was indisputable. Robert nodded. "Yeah. So think about people more, okay?"

A flash of anger disappeared into a rueful smile, and Sirius ducked his head, his hair swinging attractively with the motion. "Fine. Point taken. I can see that you belong with Moony." The last sentence should have been a joke, but wasn't quite.

"Oh, god." Robert rolled his eyes. "You two are both insanely insecure. He _adores _you."

"Adores, yeah, but..." Sirius shrugged. "Won't be enough, will it? I mean, eventually, he'll notice that I'm a complete berk."

"You could try being less of one. _Before _he can't take any more of it, I mean."

"I'm no good at that."

Robert shrugged. "I've found ... well, it's easier to _try, _than to fix things later. I couldn't bring my Sirius back from the dead."

"I'm not usually _that _bad."

"Didn't take much. Just not talking, and then jumping to conclusions." He thought about Snape, and how Sirius could have made Remus kill, but he didn't say it. That wasn't fair. He didn't even know if it had happened here. He sighed. "Look, I should talk to him, now. I haven't told him this yet."

Sirius nodded. "Sure. Keep him for a while, if you like. Stupid as this sounds, I think I need some time alone." He looked around uncertainly. "Should clean this mess up."

  


When Robert emerged, Remus was in the kitchen, washing dishes by hand. Robert watched for a moment before coming to stand behind him. He hadn't intended to touch, but it was the best he could do to make his hands stop at Remus's shoulders, rather than wrapping around to his chest.

"There are spells for that, you know."

"I know. I'm even good at them."

"Rinse off, then. We need to talk."

Puzzled, Remus looked over his shoulder, but then quickly rinsed and dried his hands. "Here?"

"Your room, I think."

The room felt like his, really. He had been sharing it with Remus, because Remus hadn't wanted to sleep in the room that belonged to Sirius, but Robert had the impression that this was the most consistent use the bed had ever seen. James, Lily, and Harry had been sleeping in the living room; it had been crowded even without Sirius home. Robert wondered if they would need a bathroom schedule now. Sighing, he sat down cross-legged on the camp mattress that served as his bed.

"So." Remus took a deep breath and leaned back to half-sit on the real bed. "Sirius?" he asked wryly.

Robert shrugged. "What I told Sirius."

"Just spit it out, will you?"

Robert looked up, irritated. What did Remus expect?_ I'm taking him off to the French Riviera in the morning? _"James and Lily and I have been lying to you," he said coolly. "Now that my case is closed, I thought you might appreciate the truth."

"What?"

_He might actually have been less surprised by the Riviera, at that. _"I'm not James's analog."

"What?" Remus repeated. "Oh, honestly! I've seen you in the middle of the night. It's not Polyjuice."

Robert came to his feet, stepping close to look directly at Remus, who stubbornly stayed seated on the bed. "Everyone says I look a lot like James," he said, "but I have my mother's eyes."

There was a flicker of annoyance, and then the werewolf's eyes widened. "Oh god."

"He didn't know when he fucked me," Robert explained, shrugging. "He thought I was him; I thought he was me."

Remus winced. "Oh," he said weakly.

"And that's why the renaming worked so well. Because Lily...."

"Right." Remus took a shaky breath. "So...." His voice wavered. "Sirius?"

"Still says I can have you."

Remus licked his lips nervously. Robert tried not to shiver.

"Is that what you want?"

"Want, yeah. But I'm not sure, now."

"Did you think better of it?" Remus taunted. "A werewolf? Afraid I'll infect you?"

"It's nothing to do with that!" Robert scowled. "Don't oppress yourself. I know someone who was assaulted and bit by a werewolf -- the same one that got you, actually -- off moon, and even with intent, there was only minor change."

"How do you know who attacked me?"

"Fenrir threw his lot in with Voldemort, where I'm from. He's dead." Robert looked away. "As are a great many other people. I can't boast, with what I've destroyed."

"Destroyed, or didn't manage to save?" When Robert stopped, derailed, Remus lifted an eyebrow at him. "Don't," he said succinctly, "oppress yourself."

"Sorry." Robert rubbed the back of his neck. "Look," he said, "it's Sirius."

Remus nodded, his face blank, and Robert rolled his eyes. "Don't! I mean, he's said I can, but the _way _he said it, I'm afraid that if we do anything, he'll start pulling away to let you have me, and I _know _you'd rather have him."

"Nice of you to care, but he pulls away if it rains on a Tuesday," Remus retorted. "Sirius doesn't want devotion, he wants not to be tied down. The only way I've kept him this long is not to care too much."

Robert scowled. "To pretend not to, you mean."

"I make it as real as I can." Remus stood, bringing his face close. "Look, I want you. A lot. This last week has been driving me _mad. _Do you want me, or not?"

Robert hissed. He found his hands moving to Remus of their own accord, fingers curling through his belt loops to pull him close. "I want you so much," he said, shaking his head. "But even more, I want everything to be _right _for you."

"Trust me, then," Remus answered, breathless, stretching up to speak in little puffs into his mouth. "Trust that I know what I want."

Once they were kissing, Robert knew that he had fallen. He couldn't pull back now for any good intention. He wanted _all _of Remus -- all his skin, all his mouth, all his attention -- and _now, _damn later. Sirius could bloody well take care of himself. He backed Remus up, and they tumbled down on the bed, gasping and whimpering with each new touch. Robert pulled at the shirt Remus wore, drawing it from his trousers and pushing his hands under, frustrated at how complicated it was, until Remus, with a sudden motion, rolled him on his back and straddled his hips.

"Easy," he soothed, and Robert lay still, only his eyes still moving frantically, tracing each motion as Remus undid his cuffs, and then started on the top closed button of his shirt. Chastened, Robert reached out to the bottom one and started there.

"Don't know what happened to my brain," he said, and then grinned, curling up to kiss a reachable flash of skin. "Well, I do, actually. You."

Once the shirt was unfastened and pushed from his shoulders, and Remus had pulled Robert's shirt free in return, Remus lay down again, so they were side by side, and they moved into slower touches.

"God. Feel like I've been waiting for years," Remus murmured between kisses, as he slid his hand down Robert's hip, far under his trousers.

"Yeah. Wanted you to fall in my lap that first night. So beautiful, Remus."

For a second, Remus froze, and then he nipped at him and laughed. "Don't," he warned.

"Don't what?"

"Don't lie. You don't have to. I'll do anything you want, except cross Sirius."

"I'm not lying!" Robert clenched his left fist, mindful of the faint, old scar there.

"'M'not beautiful," Remus mumbled into the flesh of Robert's shoulder.

Robert drew away. He had to lift Remus's face to see his eyes. "I said it on Veritaserum."

_"What?"_

"They asked why I wanted to stay, and before I could think, I said 'Remus Lupin is beautiful.' It was embarrassing, but it's true -- at least for me."

Remus stared in his eyes for a moment, and then dove forward, once more hiding his face against Robert's skin. Robert stroked his back softly, waiting for him to recover.

When his kisses resumed, they were fiercer. Robert returned them with a wild joy. He had to stop and struggle for breath when Remus settled a hand on his cock, first squeezing once and then pulling up in a long, light stroke.

"So hard," he breathed. "For me?"

"Yeah. You." Robert realized his hand had froze in place on Remus's chest and drew it slowly and deliberately down, feeling lines of faint scars beneath his touch, here and there. "So good, Remus." He mimicked Remus's touch, and wondered if it was glaring obvious how little experience he had. He forced himself to look down at what he was doing -- at the head of Remus's cock squeezing out through his tighter grip. He moaned.

"What do you want?" Remus asked.

"Don't know." He had meant it, but when Remus started to roll him back, he shook his head and pushed back. "No. I do. Just...."

"Anything you want," Remus promised.

He wanted the last thing he'd tried with James, he realized dizzily, but this time for more than a few seconds. He inched his kisses down Remus, lingering over his chest for a minute, but then losing patience and moving down all at once. Face-to-cock, he froze, suddenly uncertain.

"If you don't want--"

"Oh, I _want._" Robert set his tongue to the hollow at the base of Remus's bollocks, and drew it slowly up. Thigh muscles tensed under his hands as he tasted salt and man. "Don't know if I'll be any good at it," he continued, "but I _want._"

He did. The skin under his tongue was smooth -- unreally smooth, smoother than anything, did his cock feel like that? How had he never noticed? He slipped his lips around the slick, bittersweet tip, and moved down to the pliable wrinkles of the foreskin. Remus arched under him and let out sweet noises that gave him a feeling of power equal to any spell he had ever cast. He set his lips tight, as tight as-- as that girl he didn't want to think about now, not now when everything was good -- as tight as a cunt had ever been on him, and he experimented with suction, looking for a point that would drive Remus wild.

That wasn't hard to come by. Remus didn't shove in, the way James had, but he cried out, each sound longer and lower, until he was roaring his pleasure. They hadn't set a silencing charm, Robert realized, and he was fiercely, triumphantly glad. Let Sirius hear his boyfriend scream! Remus yanked him up to kiss, licking his taste from Robert's mouth, and then rolling him over.

"Want it too," he panted out, and then he shifted down.

He was good. Better than anything. Robert let himself scream too, when he came.

  


When Robert woke, he was alone, the light outside was golden with early sunset, and there were voices coming from down the hall. He dressed, washed his face, and walked down to the kitchen.

Everyone was there. Lily was cooking dinner, James was bouncing Harry on his knee, and Sirius was sitting at the table, with one hand holding a beer, and the other steadying Remus on his lap. Robert felt instantly awkward. Before he could decide what to do, James spotted him.

"Robbie! There you are. Come in and have a beer! You know the MLE closed your case, right?"

"I told him," Sirius said cheerily, with the friendliest of smiles over Remus's shoulder. Remus didn't look at him at all.

"We need to decide who should be told what," James went on, as Robert slunk in and sat at the table. Remus finally peeked over and gave him an uncertain little smile. Robert wished that he could find it less than adorable.

"Lily and I had a talk with Albus Dumbledore, and he's requested that we bring Robert to a meeting. I think it would be safest if we kept to the official story on Robbie's origins."

Robert nodded, latching on to the concrete problem. "Yes, definitely. Otherwise, we have a conflict of interest for Moody and Kingsley and Fr--"

"Who?"

"Ah, sorry! Kingsley would probably be too young." Robert had to laugh at the thought. He'd never distinguished among the adults, except for Tonks and the Weasley children, but of course some were younger and some older. "An ickle firstie, maybe. God. Your Aurors, whomever they may be."

"We'd better review the membership," Remus said, straightening and using the arm he had slung around Sirius for balance. "And decide what's different in your world."

"Mm. Yeah, I guess we better choose how I killed Voldemort."

"Killed _Voldemort?"_ Sirius exclaimed.

"I did," Robert said defensively. "But not _now, _of course."

"Oh, Sirius, this is brilliant!" Remus said eagerly. "Apparently, Voldemort has split his soul, hiding the pieces...."

"Already?" Sirius asked, frowning.

"Well, before this now in my timeline, and I haven't seen any divergence here up until James and Lily's universe-hopping spell."

Remus slipped off Sirius's lap and took a seat at the table. "They're called 'horcruxes.' The soul-vessels, I mean. I've only managed to find two references, and they're both a bit obscure...."

"So what do we need to do?" Sirius interrupted.

"Find them and destroy them," Robert said promptly.

"However," Lily called over, dumping the contents of her pan into a bowl, "we're not sure we should tell the Order that."

Robert considered that, and slowly he nodded. "Right. Just Dumbledore, I think."

Lily beamed at him as she ladled something into the emptied pan. "That was what we thought. So we'll need something else to tell people."

"I think I'd prefer to not even tell Dumbledore about my identity."

James snorted. "You can't think he'll be fooled!"

"No, but he can pretend to be, and he tends not to interfere if he likes the way things are progressing. I expect he'll see me as another avenue of action, and a way to protect his Harry from the weight of the prophecy."

"Cynical, are we?" Sirius goaded.

"And well entitled to it," Robert shot back.

Lily looked at him sympathetically as she turned from the stove. "Also, we explained your idea about Harry. Dumbledore agreed it had merit."

Sirius looked muddled. Remus took his hand. "Robert suggested that James and Lily claim they were separated from him in another universe," he explained. "That, we wouldn't keep from the Order, though."

"Officially, he's with some other set of parents, safe enough, but inaccessible. Alice and I think we can handle two babies between us, while pretending it's one," Lily went on. "And since we're moving in with them anyway, at least until Alastor is done with the old house...."

"Am I still staying here?" Robert asked. He didn't dare look at Sirius, or at Remus.

"That would be best, I think," Sirius answered, without hesitation. Robert tried not to shudder. "Now, Robert ... about the Order of the Phoenix...."

"I've seen a picture. From this time, I mean. Moody showed me--"

"Alastor, Robert," James said firmly.

"God. I can't imagine...." Robert cut the thought off. He had killed Voldemort. Surely he could summon the nerve to call Moody by his Christian name?

"Alastor," he repeated bravely. "Not many of the old members lived through the first war, from what he said."

"Well, let's go over names," Lily suggested. "You'll need to know the ones who died in the last few years, as well as the ones alive. There were the Prewett twins, Gideon and--"

"Enough of that!" Sirius interrupted. "I have pictures of most of them, and he should get names and faces at the same time, or he'll mix people up. Remus, go fetch the albums, will you?"

"Fetch them yourself!" Robert snapped, even as Remus got to his feet. Remus froze, one hand still on the table, looking more startled than Sirius. Sirius simply swung his head back and laughed, a rich, joyous sound that filled the room and made James and Lily, at least, start to relax.

"Robbie! You'll keep me in line, won't you?" He got to his feet. "Be right back."

Remus scowled at Robbie as soon as Sirius had left the room. "Don't cause trouble!" he hissed, quietly enough to keep his protest from carrying.

"I don't care if he grew up with house elves! _You _aren't one."

"I don't mind--"

"Well, I mind _watching._"

Sirius bounded back in, three large photo albums in his arms. "Here we go! Clear some space on the table, someone!"

Lily left the food simmering, and joined them just as Sirius settled the books in the space Robert and Remus had (competitively) cleared.

"Let's see ... Oh, yes, here's a picture of Gideon...."

  


The four of them began to look over photographs of Order members with Robert, telling him about people that James had been at Hogwarts with, or had worked with since leaving school. Midway through the second book Sirius left to get more beer, and James went with him, nominally for security.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Remus collapsed back on the emptied couch. Though many of the people that had been dead by his time were still alive here, Robert understood how exhausting it must be for them to explain all of the dead to him, in enough detail to convey the feelings he might have.

Harry toddled over to the couch and patted Remus on the face. "Seepy?"

"A bit," Remus answered cracking one eye open. "How about you? Are you sleepy, Harry?"

"No!" Harry shook his head ferociously. "No bed!"

Robert looked up from a picture of Marlene McKinnon and chuckled. Harry might be him, in a sense, but it was an even more remote connection that that of Remus to Professor Lupin. His analog was not only free of boot cupboards, but as often as not, protested the entirely normal hours that he spent in his cot. Often, Lily would shrug and add a few extra protective spells, and let him explore near the adults. Robert watched his adventures with a fierce and private pleasure.

The chuckle caught Harry's attention, and he pattered over. For a moment, he stood in front of Robert, studying him with an entertainingly serious mien. Robert wasn't sure what to make of it. Harry had mostly ignored him in favor of the more familiar adults, and Robert had been content with that. Despite being his analog, he was still a toddler, and Robert didn't know anything about toddlers.

"Hi, Harry," Robert tried, and Harry gave him a big smile.

"Wobbie," he said.

"Oh!" Lily exclaimed. "That's right, Harry! This is your Uncle Robbie. Say 'Uncle Robbie'?"

"Unca WOBBIE!" Harry shouted, and Robert laughed at his unrestricted enthusiasm.

"Very good," he said.

"Shouldn't he get Rs soon?" Remus asked plaintively.

Lily giggled. "It could be more than a year, I'm afraid. You could always go by 'Moony' with him."

"Then he'll use it in public, and I'll be stuck _explaining _it," Remus complained.

Harry had plopped down on the carpet to study a stray sock, so Robert turned back to the album Lily was holding. "Anyone else?" he asked.

"Not that we have photographs of," she said. "But-- Oh! We have a spy among the Death Eaters. He had been only known to Dumbledore and a few others, but while we were gone, when the Order was confident that Sirius had been their leak, he started to attend meetings. Alice told me about it."

Robert looked sidelong at her. He cast a quick sound-shielding spell on the child, who continued to wave the sock around. "Snape?" he asked quietly, and when she nodded, and he had nodded in return, her smile shone with joy.

Remus rose from the couch. "You knew Snape?" he asked.

"Not well," Robert answered vaguely. "But yes." He didn't want to talk about it -- not until he'd met the man. He knew that Snape had come over when he realized that Lily was a target, but how firm would that stay, while she continued to escape death? He couldn't entirely trust this Snape, Robert thought, but he didn't want to alienate him either. In fact there might be practical value to ensuring that he felt included.

  


The next morning, Sirius and Remus continued with an expanded review -- often with quite different information from each other, or from James, or from Lily. Over the course of the day, Robert developed an edited course of his war that would fit into his fiction. The meeting was that evening, and they all discussed his revised timeline over drinks before Flooing in to the Longbottoms' drawing room.

When they finally entered the meeting space, Robert walking between James and Sirius, the room was crowded and loud, the people familiar and not, and the atmosphere exactly what Robert remembered from his own war.

"-- So glad Bill is safe off at Hogwarts --"

"Terrible thing, that attack on --"

People fell silent in clusters as each knot of Order members spotted the new arrivals. One man, who had been sitting tight-lipped and sullen by the wall, glared, and Robert, who had been considering his potential approaches, smiled at him.

"Hello, Severus," he said. "Glad you're with us _here_, too."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "James," he responded, and smirked at his own insolence.

James started forward, but Robert blocked his way with an outflung arm. "No, James," he said firmly. "It's an understandable mistake. I haven't been introduced, yet."

"Indeed," Dumbledore said, coming slowly to his feet. The room quieted as he rose. "I have not even told everyone that James has an analog." He clapped his hands twice. "If we can all please take our seats? I believe that our new arrivals should be our first order of business."

James and Sirius sat with a space between them, obviously intending it for Robert, but he knew how Sirius could polarize a discussion and expected that James was no better. Being set up as _theirs _from the start would do none of them any good. He ducked around to sit on the far side of Remus, and Lily, beaming at him, took the empty spot. Sirius scowled.

A man entered from the corridor and stopped in his tracks, wand out. "What's _Black _doing here?" he snarled. With a shock, Robert realized that it was Moody, younger and more complete than he had ever seen him, except in the photographs.

"Gods, Alastor," Sirius said, tipping back in his chair. "Don't you take the Prophet?"

"It's true, then?" Minerva McGonagall leaned forward. "You weren't the Secret Keeper, and little Pettigrew was an unregistered animagus?"

James nodded in time with Sirius. Moody slid his wand out of sight and strode forward, scowling.

"And you didn't think to _tell _anyone?" he snapped.

Sirius shrugged. "Having a friend who could be a rat was handy. He could get into anywhere."

McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose. Robert imagined she was reclassifying things that her Gryffindor boys may have been responsible for.

Moody scowled. "Do you know _anything _about the influence of character on the animagus form?"

"I am quite sure they do," McGonagall said crisply. "As _all _of them took a NEWT in Transfiguration." She shot a look at Dumbledore. Robert doubted that either of them believed that Sirius hadn't become an animagus as well. "However, rats are not necessarily unpleasant." Her nose crinkled as if this did not align with her personal opinion. "Many students have them as pets."

"But--"

Dumbledore raised a hand, halting Moody's retort. "If anyone here should think of any other valuable skills that he secretly possesses, I would appreciate receiving at least private notice," he said dryly. "Sirius. For those people who missed it, your story, please."

After Sirius had related how he had chased down Peter and been set up, Dumbledore called upon Lily and James to review the circumstances of their escape. In an account notably devoid of sexual escapades, they related the structure of their travels, and their return, with Robert in tow.

"So, this is your analog?"

"Apparently," James answered cheerily. "Say hello, Robert."

Robert stood up. "Hello, everyone. I'm Robert James Potter, more commonly called Robbie. Most of you look familiar to me, so forgive me if I'm overly friendly, or just plain off. This world is just enough like mine to throw me."

He sat down again.

"But you have Harry," said Arthur Weasley, gesturing at the little bubble that contained Harry and two other toddlers, one of whom must be Neville, in a corner of the room. "This morning's Daily Prophet said he was lost."

"Robert's suggestion," Lily explained. "If Voldemort thinks that he's gone, he won't be a target."

Snape looked approving. Robert found it oddly disarming, especially on his more youthful face. "That would be the safest course," the man agreed, his eyes going not to Harry, but to Lily.

"But might that not shift his fears onto the Longbottom child?" Dumbledore suggested gently. "Severus, you must observe carefully."

Snape frowned, but nodded, and Sirius sneered silently.

  


When Dumbledore declared a break, Snape moved towards them. Robert rose, cutting ahead of Sirius, who looked like he planned to get between them. Instead, Sirius ended up lingering to one side.

"Hi, Severus."

Snape's lip curled into a familiar sneer. "You cannot mean to claim that we were friends in your world. I will never believe it."

Robert smiled and ducked his head. "No, you -- well, your analog -- thinks I'm an idiot, mostly. He saved my life at least once, though, and helped with destroying Voldemort. I respected him."

Sirius snorted. "_Our _Snape was a Death Eater."

"Yeah." Robert met Snape's eyes. "Mine too."

Snape looked thoughtful at that, but Sirius wouldn't let up. "But you _respect _him?" he challenged.

"Everyone's allowed one youthful idiocy." At Sirius's derisive snort, Robert finally looked at him. "If it wasn't past our divergence point, _yours _was massive."

"We thought Peter--"

"I'm not talking about Peter."

Sirius stared at him for a moment, in honest confusion, and then his gaze darted past, to Snape. From the hard look that came across his face, Robert guessed that things had happened much the same here.

"It was on the spur of the moment," he protested. "I didn't _plan _to--"

"Nonetheless, you could have ruined a friend's life, as well as killing someone."

"I didn't think he'd _do _it! Not all the way there!"

"Sirius. I'm not upset at you. Just let me talk to Severus, all right? Privately."

"You can't have a private conversation in here."

"Point. Severus? Take a walk with me?"


	4. Catalyst

"I can't believe you!" Sirius fumed, after the next meeting. "Talking to that greasy turd as if you were mates!"

Robert frowned at him. "As if we were _allies, _Padfoot -- which we are. You'd do well to remember that."

Remus was off at an Order rendezvous, and Robert was keyed up at being alone with Sirius. It wasn't that he didn't like the man; he did. He didn't think that Sirius was out to get him for bedding Remus -- three times, now! -- to the contrary, Sirius seemed far too supportive of their amorous ventures. It was more that he didn't trust Sirius to _understand _anything.

"You like him," Sirius accused.

"I can't _stand _him," Robert retorted. "I had him as a professor, Sirius! Every bloody thing that you and James did to him, he took out on me, you _arse._"

Sirius caught his breath. "It's not my fault that he's a petty, malicious git!" he shouted back.

"No, but it's a good measure your fault that he's so fucking messed up! Let me handle him, Sirius. I know what he did. Unlike you, I know what his analog did to pay for it. It might be worth our while for me to treat him with a little respect."

Sirius scowled. "What if it's not like your timeline?"

"You think I haven't worried about that?" Robert's voice fell, and his hands dropped to his sides. "I'm being careful, Sirius. Really. I don't tell him anything critical."

Sirius stepped closer. "Don't you dare endanger Remus."

"I won't." Robert though it was unfair that Sirius never looked sexier than when he mentioned Remus. His usually careless energy was all focused now, intent in a way that Robert didn't know if Remus ever saw.

"You better not." Sirius grabbed his chin, as if in threat, and time slowed down. Slowly, Sirius moved, tilting forward. Their lips met, more in contest than in union, and Robert heard one of them moan.

"Remus...."

"Doesn't care."

It wasn't true -- Robert _knew _it wasn't -- but he couldn't stop. His arms went around Sirius because the other man's had closed around him -- or maybe it was the other way around -- and they were pressing tight together.

"Yeah. Want to try you." The words went straight to Robert's cock as Sirius ground against him. "Such a pretty little fuck, _Harry."_

"Don't call me that."

"Just remember, I _know._"

The words were threatening, and Robert reacted instinctively, throwing his weight to the side to take Sirius off balance, and then pushing against him to bear him down. They fell against the foot of the couch. "You _won't_ betray me." He bit at Sirius's open mouth as he twisted to work his knee between Sirius's legs. "You won't betray James."

"Robbie." No threat, now, only breathless submission as Sirius dropped his head back. Robert felt the rising rush of power, for once outside of battle.

"Sirius. There's a good boy."

Sirius whined. With a snap of his wrist, Robert dropped his wand into his hand and caught Sirius in a shackle hex that bound his wrists together and pulled them above his head.

"Going to fuck you." Some corner of his mind was astounded at his daring. He'd never said such a thing to anyone, much less to a beautiful, self-assured, willful man like young Sirius. "You want that, don't you?"

"Gods, yes. Come on, Robbie...."

"Oh, I will."

Did people think he was like James? Well, then, he was like James, overwhelming and welcome as James had been to him, wilder because Sirius was wilder and needed more. He remembered Remus's story of the collar and conjured one. For a moment, he dangled it in front of Sirius and watched his eyes track it. "You _know, _Dog-star. You know when you've met your match."

For answer, Sirius closed his eyes -- his lashes were so dark and long! -- and stretched his head up and slightly back, to make it easy for Robert to buckle the strap of leather around his neck.

"So good," Robert soothed. He looked down his wand at the shackles, extending their binding to the far end of the couch in one direction and joining it to the collar in the other, just tight enough that Sirius would feel tension if he brought his head forward. "Stand up, Padfoot. And up on the arm of the couch ... for now."

He hadn't fucked anyone -- well buggered anyone -- before, and he didn't care to tell Sirius that, but Sirius was making it easy. He rocked back and set his feet on Robert's shoulders, and when Robert imitated the finger pushes that James had done to him, he told him, in no uncertain terms, when he was ready for more -- _needed _more. Robert had learned the angle by the time he switched to cock, and his uncertainty fell to lust.

"Sirius. God, you're gorgeous this way. So hot."

_No hesitation, _he thought._ No uncertainty. No regret._

"Harder!" Sirius demanded, pulling at his restraints. "Damn it, move!"

"Spoiled," Robert taunted, but he snapped his hips forward hard. "That what you want? That what you need?"

"Yeah, Robbie. Yeah, please, give it to me...." The babble of words turned into a long whining noise as Robert set up a driving rhythm. Legs wrapped around his back and Sirius pulled himself closer, head back, lips parted, eyes nearly closed. It was more than Robert could take. His own voice rose over the sounds Sirius was making as his thrusts became involuntary and faster still. There were no words, only noises, growing and rising until he was screaming at the sight of Sirius pumping out white spurts of come as he squeezed tight around Robert's ratcheting cock.

Everything was quiet. Robert croaked out a _Finite Incantantum_, and muzzily helped Sirius rub blood back into his arms. Sirius crab-walked back onto the couch and Robert crawled after.

"Just catching my breath," Sirius murmured, as his arms settled around Robert. "Can't stop at one round, you know."

"Mmm."

  


Robert woke suddenly, with a sense of danger. He was in a strange place. Part of his mind was busy noting Sirius moving groggily beside him and connecting the dimly lit parlor to memory, while the better part of it scanned attentively for the threat.

Remus was standing in the doorway. Robert couldn't see his face against the light, and he was turning anyway. In a quick motion, he disappeared down the hallway, and his door shut with a hard clack.

"Shit."

"Wha'?"

"Remus. He saw us."

Robert was on his feet in a flash, but Sirius caught at his arm. "Not now." He yawned, though his grip remained tight. "He hates anyone seeing him upset."

"So I'm supposed to just let him be upset?"

Sirius regarded him quizzically. "Could you say anything to make it better? He'll be over it by morning, anyway. It's not like he wants me to himself." He grinned. "And as for you ... he's been telling me I should do you all week."

  


Robert wasn't sure. He showered before going to bed, so he would go into the room without Sirius's scent on him. When he got there, though, Remus was already gone. _With Sirius, _he thought, and curled up miserably in the empty bed.

Remus woke him in the morning.

"Hey. Sorry I was huffy, last night. It had just been a rather miserable evening, and the two of you had obviously been having fun."

"I'd rather have been with you, you know."

Smiling, Remus shook his head. "Really, Robbie! It's not like I haven't been with him." His bright cheer faded. "Don't flatter. It isn't becoming."

"I mean it. He'd rather have you too."

Scowling, Remus pushed back from the bed, and was on his feet in an instant. "You think you're reassuring, but you're not. It's just-- just _taunting _me. Stop it."

"Sorry," Robert said quickly, sitting up. "I still think it's true, but --"

"Shut up about it!"

"I promise." He reached out a hand. "Come to bed?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Greedy boy! No. Sirius sent me to tell you there's breakfast -- eggs and mushrooms and kippers -- quite the spread. He must have enjoyed you."

Robert clamped his mouth shut for the brief seconds it took Remus to wave cheerily and exit the room. He wasn't entirely sure he could eat.

  


As it turned out, the food was good, but the company excruciating. Sirius was cheerful, and trying to look unconcerned while evenly distributing his attentions. His poise was somewhat hampered by Remus, who was cheerfully chattering about various things that he planned to be busy with, and suggesting that the Robert and Sirius might go out clubbing, unless they preferred to stay in. Robert could see Sirius tensing with each suggestion, although Remus never seemed to notice. He was too busy reading the paper, arranging the plates, and pretending to do the crossword to ever look up while he was speaking. Robert eventually pushed back his plate, muttered something about a stomach ache, and fled.

He went to Sirius's room, because Sirius had whisky. He had downed a shot and poured a second to take with him -- though where he was going was still in question -- when the soft creak of the door hinges alerted him to another's presence.

"Hey." Sirius walked casually over. He took the shot glass, sniffed it, and handed it back. "Not the best thing for stomach ache."

"Depends on what's causing it." Robert downed the shot before Sirius thought better of letting him. "Sorry."

Sirius shrugged. "Told you he didn't want to keep me."

Robert had really meant about raiding his good whisky, and it took him a moment to reorient himself. "Yeah, but he does. Never looked at you the whole time."

With a snort, Sirius swung the door shut behind him. "I don't really see how that's a sign of anything, except, perhaps, complete disinterest."

"He's hates it. He's trying not to break down."

"You," Sirius said, tipping his chin up, "are barmy." He kissed Robert lightly. "And possibly drunk, but I don't care. Gives me a shot at getting it in you." His next kiss was longer and deeper. Robert didn't even care that he tasted of fish, but the way his hands were already roaming brought his mind back to the night before.

"Remus--"

"Took off for the morning. Something about a special offer at some Muggle second-hand shop."

"Fuck."

"Might as well." A dark undertone made the joke fall flat. Robert couldn't think of words -- not the right ones, not for this. He let Sirius lead him to the bed and joined in the mutual undressing. Sirius bit at his skin, prepped him quickly, and fucked him hard and fast. Robert let everything fade into the vulgar slap of skin on skin, as his lover's heavy bollocks swung against him at each quick thrust. It wasn't until Sirius had come that he touched Robert's cock. His grip was rough and dry, and it was half pain that made Robert climax, gritting his teeth to hold in any cry.

Afterwards, they lay together, wrung out into exhausted gentleness. Sirius stroked softly down Robert's side, and occasionally kissed his hair. "Maybe he has a point," he offered abstractly. "We could be pretty good together."

"You mean I'll do?" Robert answered. He'd burned off too much whisky to feel comfortable, but he was too tired for real anger. He curled miserably closer to Sirius, vaguely thinking that this was _Sirius_, and _he _was the one who should smell of liquor and despair.

"It's not like that," Sirius protested. "I can't keep him. I know that. It isn't why I want you."

"He'd rather have you." He could be angry after all, Robert found, at least angry enough to press a hand against the protest that Sirius tried to speak. Teeth scraped in warning against his palm. "_Listen, _will you? He talks to me. Talked to me before you got back. You lie to each other all the time, but neither of you bother with me."

He let Sirius twist free.

"You're just hearing what you want to hear -- what you _think _you'll hear."

"If you were me--" _You'd know better, _Robert had been going to say, but he stopped. "How about trading places?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "What 'trade' could we make? We're both lovers he'd rather push on each other." He grinned. "Maybe he'd rather watch."

Robert didn't smile. "Polyjuice. Go to him as me, some night, and get him to talk about you. You'll see I'm not making it up."

"Not really fair to him, is it?"

"Well, the current situation isn't fair to anybody!" Robert snapped. Reason caught up with him. This was no way to convince Sirius. He forced his tone to go lighter. "Ah, come on! It should be interesting, at least. Wonder how he's different with me, in bed?"

Sirius was curious, at that. "Gentler, I expect," he said speculatively. His eyes returned to Robert. "Of course, there's the problem of getting out."

Robert shrugged. "Duck out to use the loo, and we can switch back. If you don't mind me listening in, it won't show. Of course, you may want to own up, instead."

Sirius laughed. "Not likely." Raising himself up on one elbow, he grinned at Robert. "All right. Shall we seal it with a wager?"

"I don't have much money."

"Eh. Doesn't need to be money." Sirius grinned. "If he sounds just the same...."

"Yeah?"

"You _do _come out clubbing with me. And we fuck afterwards. Loudly. With the door open."

"Sure," Robert agreed.

"And if I agree that you're right?"

Robert ducked his head. "I don't owe you for the whisky?"

"You don't anyway, you know."

Sighing, Robert slid back into Sirius's embrace. "Okay. I get to feel like I don't owe you for the whisky."

"Heh. Don't take this wrong, but...."

"Mn?"

"Think I rather like you, you pathetic tosser."

"Yeah? Sounds about right on this end, too."

  


Two nights later, Robert lingered outside of the second bedroom, listening and watching through a spy-eye he had left unobtrusively on the bookshelf. Sirius had his body, which was strange to watch. He hadn't realized his ribs showed like that when he twisted, or that his hair stuck up in back as much as it did in front, and his voice sounded high and reedy, coming from another's mouth.

"Want you till dinner, Robbie," Remus said, lifting reddened lips from the end of a long kiss. His hips rocked forward and Robert knew how that would feel. _I'm hard. Are you hard?_

"And Sirius?"

"Barely notices, does he?" Remus challenged, but he stopped pressing against the false Robert's body.

"Oh, I think he does."

"Only because he wants you."

"Oh, of course," Robert's mouth said dryly. "Are you _mad?_"

Remus glared at him, lips set in a thin line and eyes narrowed. "So you keep saying, but I _know _him -- much better than you do."

"Yeah?" Evidently realizing that the belligerent challenge was not how Robbie spoke, Sirius looked down. "All right," he said, more softly. After jerking his head to the side to toss back hair that wasn't that long, he lay back on the bed. Robert noted that Remus, looking away, had missed the telling gesture. "So use me."

"I'm sorry." Remus sat on the bed, and tenderly brushed the false Robert's fringe back. "I know it's not fair, but you keep coming here. You should go to _him, _instead; if two of the three of us were happy, that would be good enough."

Sirius yanked him down, and that, at least, was not far off what Robert would have done. "Don't tell me how I'd be happy," he snarled, and then blocked any further words with his mouth.

Robert didn't watch, after that. The conversation was his business; the sex wasn't. He padded back across the hall, poured himself a firewhiskey, and tried to drink it slowly. He didn't notice how much time had passed until the screaming started.

"You BASTARD!"

Like so often before, he was on his feet and to the source of the trouble before he had time for a thought. He stopped just inside the door he had thrown open. Remus was standing a short jump from the bed, his stiff cock angled up and glistening wet. Sirius, equally hard, was rising from the floor on the far side of the bed, moving with the twitches of the newly bruised.

"Get OUT!" Remus shouted, pointing at the door. He saw Robert. "He was pretending to be _you," _he said wildly.

Robert took a step forward. "Yeah," he said. "I know."

The color dropped from Remus's face. Robert somehow managed to keep from looking to see if his cock had wilted, as well. "He told you?"

"I talked him into it."

Robert stepped forward, interrupting the rage dawning on Remus's face. "_Look. _I'm tired of the both of you being miserable for NO REASON. Why the fuck should you pretend you DON'T love each other? You could both be happy; there's no incompatibility in what he wants and what you want. But even without me involved, you've mucked it all up, trying to play it so casual."

"You stay OUT OF IT!" Remus shouted.

"Moony?" Sirius sounded plaintive, but he was standing close now, almost at Robert's side. He took another step forward.

"I don't know what the hell you think you can say for yourself--"

"I love you."

The room was suddenly silent, except for the sound of breathing.

"But--" Remus tried, and stopped.

"Don't have any intention of leaving until you tell me to get lost." Sirius reached tenderly out to Remus, first resting a hand at his side, and then, when there was no objection, sliding it back in a loose embrace. "No one I'd ever rather have than you. I thought you knew that."

Remus shook his head. Robert thought he might be crying.

"Shh," Sirius soothed.

Robert slipped out of the room and returned across the hall, where he lay silently in the cold bed, surrounded by all the scents that meant Sirius. He had accomplished exactly what he had hoped to, but he couldn't help feeling as much misery as happiness. Come morning, he was going to be very much a third wheel.

  


He was warm. He was warm, and something warm and moist was moving slowly along his neck. Robert murmured sleepily and shifted, which brushed his engorged cock against more warmth. Who had come to bed with him?

As it slowly penetrated that no one had, and that the touches behind him were lips and a tongue-tip, he realized that he needed to open his eyes. Sirius couldn't be such an idiot as to come back to him after that, could he? If Remus had thrown him out after all, he should be sleeping in the living room, showing that he meant it.

A mouth touched his own, and his eyes shot open.

"Took you long enough," Remus teased. Robert could just see the flash of his smile in the dim grey light that leaked from the dawn through the northern window.

"What're you--" Robert froze. A warm body was pressed up very close against his back.

"We talked it over," Sirius whispered, his hot breath going from Robert's ear straight to his groin.

"Miraculous as that may be," Remus interjected.

"And as much as we love each other--" Sirius drew the word "love" out with an almost decadent pleasure. " --we still both want you."

"For real, though," Remus said quickly. "I mean, we don't know that it will work, but not just as a pet."

"Stay with us," Sirius said, adding tongue, this time, and Robert was beyond words. He arched back, mewling with need. A chuckle from Remus descended, bouncing, onto his left nipple.

"I think that might be a yes, Moony," Sirius joked. His hips twisted, settling his cock between the cheeks of Robert's arse. Lube had gone on one of them, or possibly both, while Robert was still asleep. "What d'y'say, Robbie, shall we seal it with a fuck? Remus tells me he loves the way you fuck him. I couldn't agree more, but I think you should be in the middle, this morning." He was pumping against Robert, now, his cock sliding enticingly past wakened nerves. They touched over him, and then Remus brought a hand to his cock, coating it with lube in two quick slides before twisting eagerly to push back against him.

"God," Robert managed, which was apparently enough of an agreement.

"In me," Remus whispered. "Please, baby?" His hand was already behind him, pulling the head of Robert's cock down to press against his hole.

"Do it," Sirius whispered. "I got him so ready for you. Easy as pussy, Robert, after all we've done." He reached between them to try Robert's entrance with a finger. "Then there's you."

Robert forced his body back from Remus, but had to bite his neck to make up for the loss of his arse. "Get me ready first. Want it all together."

Remus laughed. "Ah! He _can _speak."

"Bossy prick, too," Sirius said, without malice, fingers already pushing inside. "Good thing I like his ideas."

Robert wanted it, and it didn't take long to be ready enough to demand cock. Sirius positioned himself, but held obstinately still. "In Remus first, baby. Feel how hot and good he is."

Robert did, and when he rocked back, pushed himself slightly onto the steady cock behind him.

"That's it. Just move back like that every time....."

Robert thrust harder and pulled out further, taking more. Sirius was steadfastly not moving, and as Remus warmed to the motion, Robert hauled him back to get Sirius fully inside him. Sirius cried out, and Robbie panted for a moment, letting his body absorb the stretch. Still, Sirius stayed still, even when he rocked back again.

"Robbie...."

"Move, damn it! Stop saying you're going to fuck me and _do _it."

"With pleasure."

Sirius slammed forward, pushing him deep into Remus, who cried out, and then reached back to grip Robert's hip. "God, yes. Both of you."

"Want you so much," Robert muttered. He was prepared for the next push and passed it on, sliding deep into heat. "Both so hot." He was shoved forward again, and pulled Remus back to take it in full. "Love you."

They whispered to him in turns, not love, but other precious things. Love took time, he thought, but he wouldn't mind waiting, not like this, tossed in their confident pleasure.

He came first, having had no previous rounds to slow him, and collapsed in boneless exhaustion, content to let Sirius climb over him and take his place. He watched them as he hadn't in weeks, as younger versions of the men he had known when they were melancholy and war-weary. Unrestrained joy lit both of them now, more clearly than the indirect morning light, and reflected back on him.

"So right," he whispered.


	5. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy the end of the story. Special thanks to Dacro and the other members of my "By Any Other Name" roundtable at Sectus for helping me with turning Harry into Robert. :-)

Hermione didn't know what had possessed her. She hadn't been to the Burrow in years. Still, she found herself Floo-calling there, and when Mrs. Weasley, eyes wide with shock, had said, "Hermione, dear, whatever is the matter?" she had burst into tears.

Molly had pulled her through into the warm kitchen and was even now pouring her tea. When she sat at the table and set the steaming cup in Hermione's hands, Hermione tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come out between sobs. Desperately, she thrust the crumpled letter at Molly.
    
    
    _Dear Hermione,_  
      
    _I'm leaving, I suppose you could say to get my head together,_  
    _but I won't be coming back. You mean a lot to me, and I wish_  
    _we could have done something for each other, but maybe we were_  
    _both a bit too far gone, you know? I don't have any use for my_  
    _money, so consider my will invoked. In practical terms, I_  
    _might as well be dead, though it's not really that. Enclosed_  
    _is a letter to Gringotts that should be sufficient, and I'm_  
    _saddling you with doling out the galleons._  
      
    _Love always,_  
      
    _Harry_  
    

Molly looked up. "Oh dear." She settled an arm around Hermione as if they hadn't been avoiding each other since Ginny's funeral. "Do you know anything more? Did you get this by owl?"

Hermione shook her head. "Tom, from the Leaky Cauldron -- he passed it through to one of the clerks. I haven't been by there ... by his room, yet. I ... I'm frightened."

"Drink your tea, love. I'll go with you, when you're ready."

  


The room, when Tom ushered them into it, looked much the same as the other time Hermione had been there. The mess was sparser, now, with the wardrobe standing open and a few things scattered on the floor, but there were still no photographs or decorations anywhere. A bottle of firewhisky sat on the bedside table. One of the two glasses beside it was almost full. The bed clothes were half pushed back, and rumpled into a long ridge.

"Harry _lived _here?" Molly asked, dismayed.

Hermione looked away from her. _A bit late for you to be concerned, isn't it? _she thought bitterly. "Yes. I ... He didn't have company, usually."

"That was an odd thing," volunteered Tom, who was still standing in the doorway. "The last time I saw him, he was bringing someone up here. Stopped by the bar for a glass." He nodded towards the whisky.

Hermione felt oddly jealous. She'd only been in here because she'd come and pounded on the door, after two weeks of being stood up, to ask if Harry was ever planning to meet her again. He'd answered bleary and apologetic, and she'd sat on his bed and talked to him while he took a hangover potion and pulled on a shirt so they could go out.

Molly's thoughts had taken a different turn.

"Was it someone you knew, Tom? His letter said he was leaving. Could he have been forced?"

Tom shrugged. "Can't imagine it, knowing what he was like. It was a man. Looked just like Mr. Potter himself, but more of a lad, if you know what I mean. Some mischief to him, but cheery. Didn't seem like nothing Mr. Potter couldn't handle, no matter how far in his cups."

Molly pursed her lips. Slowly, she nodded. "Would you leave us, please, Tom? I think we need a little privacy."

Tom nodded, first to her, and then to Hermione. "Your business more than mine," he acknowledged. He pointed over to the bottle of whisky. "Something else over there for Miss Granger, though I didn't notice it when I first looked in."

With that, he backed out and closed the door behind him. Immediately, Molly dropped her wand from her sleeve. Hermione watched her pass it over the rumpled covers. Three spots began to glow golden-white, and one with dark red. Molly whispered another incantation, but nothing changed.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking for signs of -- well, sexual activity." She wrinkled her nose. "It does rather smell of it, don't you think so?"

"It's none of your business!" Hermione exclaimed. "Besides, he _wouldn't!_ We talked about that a month ago --" _Because someone walked up to him in the coffee shop and told him she'd be a better shag than me --_ "and he said he hadn't had sex since--" Hermione waved vaguely, but still felt herself blush. She expected that Molly wouldn't think much of Harry and Ginny having done that. "It was only twice," she added. "_After _they were engaged."

Molly's face went pinched and drawn, but not with anger. She nodded. "Poor children," she murmured.

Hermione didn't think Harry would appreciate that characterization. He was one of the _oldest _people she knew, really, but perhaps he hadn't been then. For a moment, she tried to remember, but _Ron _was everywhere in that, and she let the thoughts go before she could examine them enough to form an opinion.

Molly sighed. "And I understand that it's not my business -- _if _he left willingly."

Unwilling to follow that thought either, Hermione walked over to the table to see if she could find the other letter. Instead, she saw a small, thin bottle -- perhaps more properly a vial -- lying behind the whisky. There was a label attached to the top with red ribbon, and on it, Hermione could see her name. As soon as she picked it up, however, the words swam and reformed. "Dream a little dream," she read.

Hermione let out a derisive puff of air. Did whoever had left this believe she was an idiot? But before she could put the vial down, the label unfolded into a longer message:
    
    
    _Mssrs Thunderhooves, Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs,_  
    _with the kind assistance of Mdme. Slypaws, invite you_  
    _to take a little trip._  
    

The elegant letters glimmered and faded, to be replaced by a golden lightning bolt, and a messy script that she would recognize until her dying day:
    
    
    _Come on, Hermione. You know you want to try it. _
    

With a little cry, she jumped back, her hand still clutching the vial tightly.

"Hermione?"

Hermione showed the vial to Molly. "First it said 'dream a little dream,' and then it had the names of Harry's dad and Sirius and some others, and now...."

After a long, searching look, Molly held out her hand. "Let me see it, dear. I was a dab hand at Potions, in my day."

Hermione complied and watched, shifting restlessly from foot to foot, as Molly smelled the potion, illuminated it, tilted it in the light, and finally cast two spells at it. After that, her face relaxed.

"It's a dream package, dear. They were all the rage for a few years, for lovers' missives. They are entirely honest -- something eventually realized to be not always the best path to romance -- and you can't quite control what goes into them. Arthur, when we were courting, sent me one that was far less innocent than he had intended." She smiled, as Hermione had not seen her smile in years. "Well. All's well that ends well!

"You should dream it, dearie, but not here. Come back to the Burrow with me, and I'll make you comfortable. You'll need someone with you."

"I ..." Hermione bit back the impulse to protest that she would be fine on her own. "Thank you."

Molly reached out and laid a hand on her arm. "You're always welcome in my home, Hermione. I should have said that long ago."

For a moment, they gazed at each other, and just as Hermione was afraid she would start to cry, Molly turned away. "Now," she said, with unnatural cheer, "let's take the key and be on our way. You can come back here when we know what he left in that dream."

Hermione nodded tightly and gripped the vial in her fist. "Let's go, then."

  


They took the Floo back to the Burrow and settled in the parlor. Molly made more tea -- for herself, Hermione assumed, as she wouldn't be able to drink any while she was in the dream. When they were both settled comfortably, Hermione took out the vial, raised it in a tiny, fearful imitation of a toast, and drank it down.

  


Immediately, she was looking at Harry. No, not Harry. At James. "This is James," said a voice that seemed to come out of her own chest, but was Harry's, if a bit lower. "And this is Lily, who's a fiery vixen." Lily, now directly before her, laughed. With a shake of her bright hair, she turned into a fox and sat prettily, wrapping her lush tail over her front paws as demurely as a Persian cat. Her vivid fur contrasted with the new, green grass, both shining in the sunlight, and then the view shifted right to a red and gold picnic blanket.

"This is Remus. He lives with Sirius, here."

An unrecognizably young and attractive man looked up with a trace of annoyance. "You do too," he protested.

"Yes, but ...." Harry made an irritated huffing sound. "_This,_" he began again, "is Remus, who has spent only one moon alone in the last seven years, and will never spend another alone, if Sirius and I have anything to say about it."

"Oh," young Remus said, startled, and then he broke into a smile. "I see. Sorry, love. Will she care?"

"Of course she will, Moony!" said a new voice, and she had a brief glimpse of a laughing face and black curls, but before she placed the new man, she was looking at Remus again.

"She knew you -- your analog, much older," Harry told him, "and he'd been alone more of his life than not."

"Ah." Remus looked up. "Hi, Hermione. I've heard a lot about you."

  


The view shifted crazily, and suddenly she was looking _at _Harry. He looked fit and _awake, _and he was smiling as if he was actually happy, rather than just briefly amused.

"Ooo!" said Remus's voice, from inside her. "You didn't tell me it was so trippy!"

Harry looked puzzled, and Sirius -- the black-haired young man was the Sirius of old photographs -- laughed and pulled him back into a startling intimate embrace. Harry didn't seem put off by that, nor did he posture and shove him jokingly -- he just leaned back into it and smiled even more.

"Don't _I _get introduced, Robbie?"

Before Hermione had time to wonder who he was speaking to, Harry replied.

"Oh, I suppose!" he said, and waved over his shoulder. "Hermione, this is Sirius Black, who is a spoiled, self-centered brat, and entirely convinced of his own perfection." To her shock, Harry stretched back to meet Sirius for a long, deep kiss. "Mm. Which is just fine with me."

  


For a moment, the sunny stretch of grass was gone. They were in a bedroom, lit only by the light from the hearth, and Sirius was bound to the bed, wrists shackled together and above him, and ankles pulled to separate bedposts. He arched, and the body she was in descended to meet the rising curve, kissing down from navel to-- She tried to close her eyes, but of course it wasn't _her _eyes that she saw from. That was his _penis_, and Remus was going to _kiss _it or something, and then suddenly, there was _Harry _there too, and she could feel his tongue as it met the one she felt from within, could feel the tight skin of what they were both licking--

  


To her intense relief -- and perhaps an instant of frustration, but that must be _his,_ leaking over -- she was back at the meadow.

"Sorry!" Remus exclaimed. "I think I may have showed her something else."

Harry shrugged. "That can happen with this spell. We know that." He blushed slightly. "Good, I hope?"

"Oh, fab. Last night, in fact." _Sirius writhing under him, his body hot around him, Harry's mouth on his nipple...._

Harry, blushing more, sat up. "Um, so, Hermione -- back to what I _wanted_ to show you. Remus and I are both collecting the thoughts, because we thought you might want to see me. The thing is, we can show you things deliberately, but some thoughts in between might just leak through." He pushed back his hair. "You know I'm pants at Occlumency, and Remus has never been shown it at all."

He straightened up, legs crossed, and Sirius lay down to curl around behind him. "So first, don't panic. I'm _not _in the past. I met this man who was James, but not my dad, really -- another James Potter from an alternate timeline. He and Lily weren't trapped at Godric's Hollow -- they had this escape planned that sent them whipping around universes. So I came back with them to get Sirius out of Azkaban, and help them with Voldemort. It was really pretty simple."

  


A young, skinny man brushed back the straight fall of jet hair that had slid in front of his shoulder. "Poison, Robert?" he sneered. "I'm surprised that would satisfy your Gryffindor need for glory." His smile grew a little falser and more vicious. "After all, we are planning to vanquish the Dark Lord."

She seemed to be back in Harry now; his voice came from her position.

"Look, in my timeline, my best friend died, and my girlfriend died, and you died, and Remus died, and hundreds of other people died. We can make him vulnerable. If you can finish him off neatly, where he can't strike back at anyone, I will be _entirely _satisfied." He stepped closer to the other man. "You can do it, Severus. I have faith in you." Hermione felt his lips curl in a smile. "Have the lion's share of the glory, if you wish."

  


"This is Harry." There was a toddler leaning forward from Lily's hold. The body she was in reached out a hand for him to hang on to. "I'm called 'Robert' here. Most people think I'm James's analog."

"Wide!" said the toddler. "Want wide, Unca Wobbie," and Lily laughed. 

  


The images began to move faster. She felt someone sitting on her back, but it was disorienting. Everything looked strange, and it took her a moment to realize that she was running on four feet, in the body of some creature more massive than the stag at her side.

  


Severus Snape again, dressed in finely cut dark blue robes, and smiling. An elegant blond witch was hanging off his arm. "I suppose I must thank your friends, as well as you?" he said sardonically, and she felt Harry's laugh.

"We're a team, I'm afraid."

"Well. No accounting for taste."

  


"All in all," Remus said, his head dangling off the side of the couch so that he appeared to be upside down. "It's all very well to win the war, but I'm more astounded that we got Sirius and Severus drunk enough to spontaneously shake hands."

"I did _not!"_

A laugh from Harry told her where she was. "Remember what I said about being less of a berk?"

Sirius sighed. "Yes," he ground out.

"This might be a good time to work on it."

"He shouldn't get so much credit! He just--"

"_Just _kept me from needing a bloody army, a fifth of whom would _die, _to end things." Harry took a breath she could feel. "Come on, Sirius. Everyone else is happy. Be happy. Let him be happy."

  


It must have worked, because Sirius had his mouth around his/her penis, and she could see Remus behind him doing something....

  


Snape again, with a brunette witch, with a black-haired witch. The images shifted, as if someone was sorting through memories, until they settled on Snape with a poised blond wizard. They were at some sort of formal function, or perhaps a very formal party. Harry was talking to them cheerily, and she/he had to tug Sirius aside and soothe him. There was a thought -- from Remus, perhaps? She must be seeing things from Remus, now -- that maybe Sirius just enjoyed being mollified.

  


Quidditch -- coasting beside James in a victory lap of a little village pitch.....

  


"I miss you Hermione," Harry said steadily to her, as if Remus was the camera in a documentary. "But I'm happy here. I just wanted you to know. Take care of yourself."

  


Hermione found herself sitting on the Weasleys' couch, Molly's arms around her, and her face covered with tears. It was better than anyplace she had been in ages.


End file.
